


More than the Cherry Thing

by WolffyLuna



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cousin Incest, Hair Kink, Hair bondage, Light Bondage, Long Hair, M/M, Magical Hair Kink, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 20:26:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11020956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolffyLuna/pseuds/WolffyLuna
Summary: Maedhros gets intimately acquainted with Fingon's command of his hair.





	More than the Cherry Thing

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by/riffing off/sort of a sequel to [this fic](http://thelioninmybed.tumblr.com/post/160833734347/vardasvapors-crocordile-replied-to-your-post) by TheLionInMyBed

They’d _intended_ to head back to their separate homes. To have the “It was very nice to see you, we should do this again sometime, but I better turn in” conversation. To peel off at the right intersection and keep walking away from each other. 

It turned out intentions didn’t mean much.

They wandered around a park, in the opposite direction of where their homes were. Maple trees filtered Telperion’s light, and fog drifted off the nearby lake.

Neither of them stumbled, or slurred their speech. Maedhros had never seen the point in getting seriously impaired, and at least this time Fingon didn’t either. Maedhros would have to admit to being a bit disinhibited. 

Only a little.

Just the _tiniest_ amount, enough to make him drape an arm over Fingon’s shoulder. A braid slid up the arm, and flopped over it affectionately. 

Maedhros couldn’t help but be reminded of the cherry stem thing. Not that’d it be difficult to remind him of it, it was very memorable moment. The shiver, the gently drop of the stem--

He’d never really watched Fingon’s hair before. He’d _seen_ it, and he knew it was dark and glossy and beautiful. But it’d always been passing glances. there’d be better part of Fingon to look at, like his eyes. Now, he stared at it and half expected it to breathe. 

It wasn’t the most beautiful part of Fingon. Not a crowning glory. But hair _that_ dextrous? That did more than just sit out the way? That was impressive. _Enticing_ , even.

The sliver of disinhibition that laid his arm over Fingon’s shoulder took over him again. He brushed his fingers along the braid. It was smooth like silk and warm like wool. He pulled his hand back. It was more forward than he’d usually be. More forward than he _should_ be. 

Fingon leaned onto his shoulder. His braid undid itself, and laced through Maedhros’ fingers. It had been an insult to think of it as being ‘smooth like silk’. Even the finest silk, the individual threads had some roughness. Here, each strand was as soft and smooth as the whole.

“You know, I can do more than tie knots in cherries,” Fingon said.

“I imagine you can, Hair Commander.” The hair curled around his thumb, and started snaking up Maedhros’ arm. It left goosebumps in its wake. Maedhros tried to suppress a shiver.

“I could show you.”

“I think you already are.” The hair was strong. It was gentle as it climbed, but Maedhros felt it could squeeze hard if Fingon wanted it to.

Fingon sat down on a nearby bench, and Maedhros followed him. “I could show you more.”

Maedhros’ brought his hand to his lips and kissed Fingon’s hair. “I would not say no to that.”

The snake of hair shot up his arm, and another lock raced up his other arm. They met at Maedhros’ neck, coiling and twitching, before pulling Maedhros forward onto his lap.

They nearly banged foreheads, and Maedhros had to grab Fingon’s hips to keep his balance. 

Fingon kissed him, as hard as his hair had pulled him forward. Maedhros could feel his smile against his lips. Another braid curled around his waist, pulling him further forward. 

Maedhros’ ears flushed, and tension pooled in his groin. This shouldn’t have felt so _viscerally_ arousing. Sure, pretty hair that could move well was intellectually attractive, but being grabbed and held by it shouldn’t have made his breath (and other things) hard. 

Regardless of how little sense this made, there was one thing he could say about it: It definitely beat the cherry thing. 

A loose lock of hair slid down the front of Maedhros’ robe. It tickled, though not as a laughing sort of tickle. The sort that wakes the skin, draws blood toward the surface. It was light and teasing and made Maedhros’ chest feel tight.

He couldn’t see Fingon’s face clearly, being pulled nearly nose to nose. But he could see his expression, grinning and staring up at him from under long lashes. “You’re beautiful. Not just the hair, all of you,” Maedhros said. He’d grind his hips against Fingon’s, but he still had some propriety, and he wasn’t sure if the hair’s grip would let him. 

The loose lock undid his small clothes, and the edges of it feathered against his cock.

Maedhros shivered.

Fingon brushed his cheek with his thumb. “You’re very cute, too.” The loose lockslid down towards Maedhros’ cock head.

“I’d like to think I am handsome.” It came out much higher pitched than Maedhros’ intended. 

Fingon’s grin widened. “Normally, yes. But right now, you are heartmeltingly _adorable.”_ He said it in a way that made it not patronising, but a cross between proud and affectionate.

“I can live with that.” He leaned down and kissed along Fingon on the jaw.

The braid around his waist curled tighter, held him closer. Maedhros could feel Fingon’s breath hot against his cheek, feel his smile in the shape of the air. 

Normally Maedhros wouldn’t do this out here. It was too public. What if someone saw them? It’d be improper for anyone to do it, but two nobles? Two noble cousins? But Fingon’s smile and hair were distracting at the best of times. With the full force of both pointed squarely at him, he didn’t have a chance.

The lock of hair curled around Maedhros’ cock, and _stroked._ It shouldn’t have worked, shouldn;t have felt good. Hair felt rough when you went against the grain. That’s how hair worked. It shouldn’t feel _soft,_ or _smooth_ , or _silky_ , or _too damn good_ , or any of the other adjectives that were rattling in his brain.

Fingon chuckled. Maedhros realised he’d said his thoughts out loud. “I guess that’s another reason my hair is special,” Fingon said. 

“It is very special hair.” It came out far more breathy than intended and even more high pitched than before. His hips twitched, and the tension in his groin and built and built and pushed further downwards. . “I’m close,” he said, for lack of a more poetic way to say it.

Fingon kissed the lobe of his ear. The lock of hair sped up, just a fraction, but enough.

Maedhros came, long and hard. . He would have fallen forward, if there was any more forward to fall into.

Fingon wrapped his arms around his waist, and the braid stroked his back.

Maedhros tried to get his breath back, and roundly failed. The lock of hair stayed in place, brushing against his oversensitive cock. “That was… _more_ than the cherry thing.”

 


End file.
